


A Little Less Traditional

by Tenoko1



Series: Christmas Cruise [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Cruise, Cruise, Flirting, Fluff, Found Family, Friendship, Gen, Insecurity, Pre-Slash, Sibling friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-11
Updated: 2018-12-11
Packaged: 2019-09-16 14:22:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16955652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tenoko1/pseuds/Tenoko1
Summary: “I just realized how much we stand out, is all.”Jack looked around and Sam knocked him with his elbow. He stopped.“We don’t,” Sam said.His voice was soft and reassuring, but it was complete BS.“Yeah,” Dean challenged, “we do. Everybody else is here in couples or with their families.”“Wearea family,” Cas stated. It was clear from his lilt the statement was as much a question of confusion as anything and Dean felt his irritation spike, hands curling into fists beneath the table.Why did he have to explain this? When would the angel justgetstuff? Awkward, obvious, uncomfortable stuff?Shoulders straight, Sam’s hazel eyes swept around, calculating. Dean breathed in relief. Sam would get it and understand. He’d grown up next to Dean, had always had that sense of being just off enough to stand out in new schools. Difference was, Sam had learned how to blend in. Dean had embraced the outsider label and used it like armor, reminding himself nothing that happened mattered because they weren’t staying.“A familyless traditional, Cas,” Sam murmured, gaze coming back to settle on Dean.





	A Little Less Traditional

**Author's Note:**

> Part 2 of the Christmas Cruise collection. Each part can ABSOLUTELY be read as standalone. "A Little Less Traditional" was written for the [SPN HolidayMixtape challenge on Tumblr](http://holidaymixtape.tumblr.com/).

\--  
  
Walking the concrete pier toward the cruise ship, Dean sped up a beat to fall into step beside Castiel, adjusting the straps of his backpack and looking over his shoulder. Sam slung an arm around Jack’s neck, grin on his face at his animated detailing of seeing dolphins.  
  
    “How was swimming lessons?” Dean questioned. Cas’ brow arched. “I’m guessing it went well.”  
  
    Climbing the gangplank, they put out their hands for sanitizer before stepping through and into the vessel that was their home for the week of Christmas.  
  
    “He had a great deal of fun,” Cas answered, voice warm and smile soft. “And he caught on quickly. I worried the instructors might comment on his age and inability to swim, but there were students of all ages in the class, some older than he appears.”  
  
    The four of them stopped, automatically hovering in a circle as others flowed around them, heading up the stairs or to the elevators.  
  
Castiel adjusted his backpack with a frown, twisting to throw it a glance like he wasn’t sure how it got there or why he had it. Both he and Jack being human was a gradual adjustment for all of them.  
  
    “What now?” Sam asked. “I want a shower and a change of clothes.”  
  
    When Jack said nothing, Cas looked at him. “You should as well after swimming in the ocean.”  
  
    “Okay.”  
  
    Dean hooked a thumb over his shoulder. “After being in the sun all day we could probably all use them.” He looked at his phone. “...Then meet up for dinner?”  
  
    Jack looked to both Sam and Cas before nodding. He was slowly learning independence, but it was also a relief the way he looked to them for guidance and trusted them, even in simple things.  
  
    Sam nodded. “Stairs or elevators?”  
  
    “Dude, I am not climbing to deck thirteen.” He jerked his head. “Elevator.”  
  
    The elevator ride was silent for everyone on it, exhaustion from activities and sun exposure written on their faces.  
  
    Sam had pink on his cheeks and nose. Dean looked at Cas and Jack, worried if they knew to use sunscreen. He berated himself with an amused huff of laughter. Castiel worried like a new parent, so he didn’t doubt there was a bottle of sunscreen in both of their backpacks.  
  
    As they spilled out of the elevator and into the narrow corridors, Jack piped up. “Where are we eating?”  
  
    “Uuhhh…”  
  
    “We could go to the Tropicana Room,” Sam suggested from the back.  
  
    “Dude, no,” Dean argued, throwing a weary glance at him. “I’m too tired for that. And it’s formal. You have to dress nice.”  
  
    “There’s the buffet,” Cas offered. When Dean grimaced and made a noise, he tried, “We haven’t gone to Shanghai’s.”  
  
    “ _Yes_.” Dean grinned, meeting Jack’s and then Sam’s eye. “Good with you?”  
  
    They both nodded. Jack’s was probably more blind trust and acquiescence than preference. They were all looking forward to- and enjoying- getting to teach and introduce him to new things, watching as he discovered his own preferences.  
  
    That was one of the points of this cruise: gaining life-experiences and doing it as a family. If he was being honest, it was something he more than thought they deserved.  
  
    Turning the corner to the hall with their rooms, they paused. Jack had already opened the door to his and Cas’ room on the right.  
  
    “Ready in an hour?” Dean asked. They nodded and he flashed a grin at Sam. “Dibs on the shower.”  
  
    “Dude!”  
  
    He ran their keycard and opened the door still grinning. “Called ‘dibs’, Sammy.”  
  
    “Rock, paper, scissors,” he argued.  
  
    “Dibs trumps!”  
  
    “I can’t _call_ dibs if I don’t realize we’re _doing_ dibs,” he sighed, shouldering off his backpack and dropping it at the foot of his bed.  
  
    God, it was so nice coming back to the room and it already neat and tidy. There was something relaxing about returning to a neatly made bed.  
  
    He dropped his backpack. “Okay, okay. From now on: rock, paper, scissors. But! Dibs still stands.”  
  
    Kicking his sandals off into the closet, Sam rolled his eyes. “Fine. Hurry up and take a shower while I catch a nap.”  
  
    “Gross, dude. You’re sweaty and the bed’s clean. Anita deserves your _respect_ for her efforts.” He pointed to the animals made out of towels and handcloths. “She made us crabs.”  
  
    Crossing his arms, he gave Dean a look, one brow arched high. “Don’t think I won’t nap on the floor.”  
  
    Rolling his eyes, Dean pulled clothes out of the cubby next to his bed before heading for the small bathroom they shared and shooting a warning look. “Fifteen minutes. Dinner’s in an hour. Don’t fall asleep if you aren’t going to want to get up when I get out.”  
  
    Sam waved.  
  
    When they’d tried to convince him to go on the cruise for Christmas, Dean had been adamantly against it. The Titanic came to mind. Modern-day pirates. Cruise ships breaking down. Tiny, cramped spaces and seasickness.  
  
    Then, the traitors had begun coaxing him with magic words and phrases like ‘beaches’ and ‘open bar’ and ‘unlimited food’ and ‘Christmas on the beach, Dean’.  
  
Yeah. There was no way he was going to say 'no' to that.  
  
Sam was the most convincing, really. Dean had to admit he’d have been an awesome lawyer. His ability to sway opinion and paint a picture with words was tantamount to a superpower.  
  
    Dean had been pleasantly surprised the ship was so much bigger than expected. He rarely felt it moving and the only time he’d been aware of it was when they’d passed through rough water. Sam had had to take a Dramamine and lay down while Dean, Cas, and Jack went to dinner and then watched a movie.  
  
    Getting showers wasn’t as bad as he’d anticipated, either. The room was small but well designed so that there was plenty of space for moving, with handholds for security if needed. Their room, too, was bigger than he’d expected. He’d be picturing something the size of a shoebox, with bunk beds jutting from the wall. Instead, their beds were tucked against opposite walls. When Sam had asked about getting eggcrate cushioning for his, they’d come back from lunch to find it had been added to both of their beds.  
  
    Dean was really sort of enjoying the pampering. Everyone was quick to make sure he had what he wanted or needed. There wasn’t a single staffer that wasn’t bright and friendly, regardless of how adept their English, all of them from places across the world. One of them had talked with Jack about the many places he’d been while working for the cruise line, and the young Nephilim had stared in rapt awe as he’d described sights and experiences.  
  
    Dean could admit that was what got him properly excited for the trip, anxiousness assuaged by a bright smile and mirth-filled words and laughter.  
  
   
  
Sam wasn’t asleep when Dean opened the door to the bathroom and stepped out in jeans.  
  
    “Next!”  
  
    Setting down the remote, he grabbed his bundle of clothes and slipped past. Dean peered around the wall to see the TV. The main deck at the bow, people milling around, the ship gliding through the water.  
  
    “Anything exciting?”  
  
    “I think that’s the last thing you want on a cruise,” he answered.  
  
    “So, no glaciers?”  
  
    He chuckled. “In the Gulf of Mexico? No, Dean. No glaciers. Maybe if we take a trip to Alaska? Or Antarctica.”  
  
    When the door shut, Dean stepped to the closet and considered the small selection of shirts he’d brought before pulling out the sage button down. He hummed as he dressed. It was more dressy casual, but definitely not Tropicana Room standards. He considered the closet again. They’d brought their suits. He thought they were the right style for formal, but wasn’t sure if there was a difference depending on the setting.  
  
    As he added a touch of cologne and considered himself in the mirror, he frowned at the tightness of his chest, the feeling of pressure. He twisted, considering himself from various angles before shaking his head. He wasn’t trying to impress. He didn’t need to impress. His jeans and dress shirt were fine. He even had to admit he looked good. Shirt well-fitting and tucked in, belt showing off the slim build their layers normally hid. The color even made his eyes look greener. His hair was styled subtly and he was even wearing his nicer shoes for Fed suits and cases. He looked really good.  
  
    So why was he anxious?  
  
    His pacing and fidgeting earned a quizzical look from Sam when he stepped out of the bathroom. His hair was damp, but a brush and mousse already run through it.  
  
    Sam could try to hide his hair products from Dean all he wanted, but Dean knew his baby brother and his habits. Living in motel rooms their whole lives-- and now in a small cruise cabin-- it was kind of impossible for him to hide them. That he felt the need to hid them so diligently after so many years made Dean give him less of a hard time, worried his gentle ribbing had made his brother self-conscious.  
  
    Just as Sam finished getting dressed, there was a knock on their door. Dean opened it to find Jack bright-eyed and smiling.  
  
    “Are you ready?”  
  
    “Yeah,” he said, looking over his shoulder. “Sam, you ready?”  
  
    Grabbing his room key and sliding it into the back pocket, Sam’s chin dipped on a nod. Jack stepped to the side as they left.  
  
    “Where’s…” Dean’s words died off as his gaze swept around to settle on Cas. He was dressed in a shirt and blazer, hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans, with one foot crossing the other and propped. “Oh.”  
  
    The tightness and coiled nerves squeezed tighter, making him draw in a careful, slow breath. He smelled cologne that wasn’t his.  
  
Castiel angled his head, a crease between his brows before his gaze swooped to Sam.  
  
    His brother’s elbow knocked into him. Dean jerked, looking up. Sam gave him an exasperated but confused look. “You ready?”  
  
    “Yeah,” he insisted, gesturing with a hand for them to take the lead.  
  
    They fell into line and he followed, shaking his head like it would banish the feeling of anxiety. Or explain it.  
  
    It was weird. Formal, in a way. Maybe that was the problem.  
  
    Granted, Shanghai wasn’t formal dining, but part of the appeal of the cruise was the overall lavishness of it. The chandeliers and lush carpets. Fully-decorated Christmas trees and garland everywhere. The fine dining options and a ballroom. Dean wasn’t actively comparing himself to the other guests, but he was aware of the ones in gowns and suits, same as he was of the ones wearing swimsuits under their shorts and t-shirts.  
  
    Maybe it was because it felt so uncharacteristic for them. Diner food and meals in the bunker didn’t compare. They’d never had to dress up to go out to dinner as a family. It made him hyper aware of everyone around them, of those dressed finer than they were.  
  
    As they passed other people in the hallways and on the dining floor, he was aware all four of them were guys, whereas every other family was… traditional.  
  
_Heterosexual_ , his mind clarified.  
  
Parents with kids. Couples. Groups of couples.  
  
Then there was them, he thought, shifting from one foot to the other as Sam spoke to the hostess.  
  
    Dressed in a traditional Chinese dress, the red and gold vibrant in the overhead can lights, her eyes swept across them, fingers raised. “Just… four of you?”  
  
    Sam nodded. “Mm-hm.”  
  
    “Right this way.”  
  
    There weren’t proper tables but long, narrow bars with barstools they were seated opposite at. She handed Sam a slip of paper and a pencil. As she moved to step away, Dean held up a finger and his key card.  
  
    “Imma need a whiskey,” he insisted. Sam did a double-take, brow furrowing.  
  
    She took the card, eyes sweeping over the rest of them, brows raised.  
  
    “Water,” Sam said.  
  
    “Same,” Cas and Jack echoed.  
  
    As she hurried to put in the order at the bar tucked against the wall, Sam eyed his brother. “Dude, are you okay? Do you feel sick?”  
  
    “‘M fine, Sam.”  
  
    “You aren’t.”  
  
    He glared across at him, biting back the urge to snap. Refusing to talk about it would only draw more attention, but it wasn’t like his reasoning was exactly logical or would make sense to anyone outside of his own head. Plus, he didn’t want to risk drawing their attention to it in case it made any of them uncomfortable.  
  
    Sam was looking at him with that worried, puppyish expression while Jack, beside Sam, wore the confused owl look so much like Castiel’s. Without looking, Dean could feel Cas considering him, their elbows nearly touching.  
  
    “It’s not a big deal,” he said, then winced, because that made it sound like it was, in fact, a big deal. He forced his shoulders to relax and straightened. “I just realized how much we stand out, is all.”  
  
    Jack looked around and Sam knocked him with his elbow. He stopped.  
  
    “We don’t,” Sam said.  
  
    His voice was soft and reassuring, but it was complete BS.  
  
    “ _Yeah_ ,” Dean challenged, “we do. Everybody else is here in couples or with their families.”  
  
    “We _are_ a family,” Cas stated. It was clear from his lilt the statement was as much a question of confusion as anything and Dean felt his irritation spike, hands curling into fists beneath the table.  
  
    Why did he have to explain this? When would the angel just _get_ stuff? Awkward, obvious, _uncomfortable_ stuff?  
  
    Shoulders straight, Sam’s hazel eyes swept around, calculating. Dean breathed in relief. Sam would get it and understand. He’d grown up next to Dean, had always had that sense of being just off enough to stand out in new schools. Difference was, Sam had learned how to blend in. Dean had embraced the outsider label and used it like armor, reminding himself nothing that happened mattered because they weren’t staying.  
  
    “A family _less traditional_ , Cas,” Sam murmured, gaze coming back to settle on Dean.  
  
    “...Oh.”  
  
    Their waitress returned, passing out glasses of water and Dean’s whiskey, his card held between slim fingers.  
  
    “Can we get another glass of water for him, too, please?” Sam asked, face chagrin. “Sorry.”  
  
She nodded and left just as Dean tossed back his drink, hissing through his teeth. His brother watched him, expression shuttered.  
  
He knew it didn’t make sense. It didn’t change the feeling of a spotlight on them. On him. Here because credit card scams still worked every time, only a GED to his credit, in a family made up of only men where only one conclusion would be drawn and labels and judgment applied.  
  
“Dean, it doesn’t matter,” Sam insisted. “If someone misunderstands, we just correct them. ‘No, that’s my brother, best friend, and his son.’”  
  
Jack looked at him, frowning. “I’m Dean’s son, too. And yours. All of you are raising me.” His eyes trailed over them. “Is something wrong with that?”  
  
“No, kid,” Dean insisted. “You’re not the problem.”  
  
“Dean,” Sam said, “it _doesn’t matter_. So what if people think you and I are together, or me and Cas are together, or even if they think you and Cas are together? We just correct them. But nobody is going to care and we don’t stand out. Even if they did care: they’re the problem, not us. Everybody on board is different, all types of families from all over. Just enjoy vacation.”  
  
Head throbbing, he rubbed his temple. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”  
  
Sam shook his head. Dean could feel Cas watching him, wanting to help and not sure how. Jack, too, but concern outweighed by his confusion.  
  
God, natural-born humans must seem so strange to them.  
  
He pushed himself straighter, forcing a tight smile. “I’m fine. Sorry I’m being weird.” Cas opened his mouth and Dean clapped his hands together. “So! What’s for dinner?”  
  
The forced cheeriness was easier-- and more natural-- once their food was brought out. Plates of authentic Asian food, most of he was familiar with.  
  
Sam spluttered and laughed as Cas struggled to grab a dumpling with his chopsticks until he finally stabbed it.  
  
Both Dean and Sam tried to show Jack how to use his chopsticks, his confusion and frustration impossibly endearing. Ultimately, the hostess came by, carefully folding her hands around his with quiet instructions on how to hold and use the utensils.  
  
They ordered several rounds of appetizers and main courses, picking from each other’s plates and bowls so they could try everything. Dean and Sam both delighted in getting to watch Cas and Jack try things for the first time.  
  
He had to admit if only to himself, that he loved his family. Loved them as they were, mismatched and cobbled together. They _fit_ and they _worked_. Having a proper family dinner at a restaurant just drove it home.  
  
   
  
Too full for dessert, they stepped out of the restaurant and into a circle.  
  
“Well, what now?” Sam wondered.  
  
They looked at each other.  
  
“...I heard there was an arcade,” Jack said, voice hopeful.  
  
Sam raised a brow, smile on his lips. “You’ve never been to an arcade. Okay. We’re going to the arcade. What about you guys? Anything on the schedule you want to do?”  
  
“...I wanted to take a walk around the deck,” Cas admitted. “A night on the ocean, I would think it… a sight to see. What the stars must look like.” He looked at Dean. “Do you want to come with me?”  
  
Pursing his lips, Dean considered. “Yeah, actually. That sounds nice.”  
  
Sam checked his phone, scrolling through the app with the ship’s schedule. “Okay. There’s a few hours before the comedy club, but there’s also an outdoor movie on deck sixteen in an hour back in the adults-only area.” Dean’s brows shot up. Sam laughed. “Not like that. Just a ‘No kids, go play somewhere else’ area. It’s a sun deck during the day. The all-ages area for movies is the atrium.”  
  
Dean looked at Cas. “Wanna take a walk then catch a movie?”  
  
“That sounds nice.”  
  
He pointed to Sam, warning, “Arcade takes real money.”  
  
“I know. But he’s never been to an arcade, Dean. _Skeeball_. Let the poor child _live_.”  
  
He snorted and waved them off. “Yeah, yeah. Have fun.” Returning Jack’s wave as he and Sam headed off, Dean hooked a thumb toward one of the bars. “Want a drink to take outside?”  
  
“A Long Island.”  
  
Dean nodded, the two of them handing over their cards to the bartender and retrieving their drinks before Dean jerked his head toward the stairs. “We have to go up a deck to get outside. Stairs or elevator?”  
  
“Stairs.”  
  
   
  
The breeze rushed them as the doors swept open, tension bleeding from his muscles. There was immediate quiet save for the sound of waves as they glided through the water.  
  
    He cast a sidelong glance at Cas to find him with his head tilted back. Dean mimicked him, eyes widening.  
  
    “Oh, wow.”  
  
    A blanket of stars hung above them, the moon too big and bright to be real. Vast and unfathomable and amazing.  
  
    Castiel leaned into him, shoulders bumping. Dean looked at him. “Come,” he insisted, stepping onto the walkway with sure steps.  
  
    Dean spared half a second to consider him. The ease of his relaxed posture, the blazer, and jeans, the way he looked so human, but not in a way that made Dean feel guilty.  
  
    It looked good on him. He looked happy.  
  
Truth be told, that was something Dean had worried the most about. He didn’t want Cas to regret being human instead of an angel.  
  
    Shaking it off, he caught up to him, falling into the slow pace, eyes sweeping the sky. His every muscle uncoiled with how peaceful it was.  
  
    This was something he could get used to. Something he hadn’t known he needed.  
  
    He’d confessed to Sam about wanting to retire and go to the beach, but it had always been a comforting idea he held no real expectation of becoming a reality. Impossible, but a needed dream when the monsters were never ending and the threats always bigger and direr than the last. When he felt he couldn’t take anymore, wondered how much they would endure before they got to rest… the idea of getting that rest, of a beach without any cares, that was his go-to. Maybe because it was that perfect mix of realistic but unattainable.  
  
    “I wanted to ask you something,” Cas began.  
  
Drink to his lips, Dean cast him a look, brow arched. Castiel flicked a glance his direction but didn’t look at him, before his eyes slid away, first on their feet and then up to the sky.  
  
As they reached the stern of the boat, the area wide-open with couches and chairs, Dean moved to the railing, fingers laced around his drink and forearms resting on the wood. “So ask,” he prompted when Cas said nothing else.  
  
His friend looked around. The only other people were seated on chairs and a loveseat by the windows, engrossed in merry conversation.  
  
He looked at Dean, their eyes meeting. “Would it bother you so much to be seen with me?”  
  
Dean jerked, blinking rapidly. “What?”  
  
“What you said earlier--”  
  
“I know what I said--”  
  
“Would it bother you that much?”  
  
His mouth worked, aborted half-sounds in the back of his throat as a dozen thoughts and silence overtook his thought process.  
  
Castiel watched him, body relaxed, posture mimicking Dean’s. His face was a complicated mess Dean’s couldn’t decipher. Part blank, like they were discussing a general topic he didn’t care anything about. Part shuttered off like he didn’t want to show his cards until he got an answer to his satisfaction. And part of it that sad sort of weariness Dean had come to associate with him, the polished, sharp edges of a soldier worn down with time and too many battles and disappointments.  
  
“It’s not…” He choked and struggled while Cas gave a slow blink and waited. Dean swallowed. “I-it’s not… _you_.”  
  
Brow furrowed, Cas pursed his lips and twisted around so he was leaning against the railing. “Then try to explain, because I don’t understand. You were… very upset at the idea someone might get a misconception seeing us out and together. While Sam is easy enough to understand since he’s your brother and you practically raised him, I don’t know why the idea you and I being thought of as more than friends would--”  
  
“It’s not a you-problem,” Dean insisted, straightening with a hand splayed toward him. “It’s a me-problem.” Cas tilted his head and Dean raked a hand over his hair, unsure how to explain much less be understood. “I guess it wouldn’t make sense or be a given with angels.”  
  
Cas shook his head. “You’re correct. Heaven is indifferent to sexual orientation. Only organized religion takes issue with it. Angels change vessels, and therefore genders, many times throughout history. In just the last century, I’ve taken three vessels and only Jimmy was male.” He waved a hand over his body. “Technically, I think I’d be categorized as non-binary or agender. I assume whatever pronouns are appropriate to my current form simply because it’s easier, not that I have a preference. But it bothers you. And that bothers me.”  
  
“People look at you different,” Dean said, voice a raw rasp. He swallowed and looked away. “They treat you different… if they think you’re...”  
  
“Queer.” Dean flinched. Castiel’s expression softened. “Which has been used as an insult and slur most of your life.” He dropped his gaze. “I see.”  
  
“It’s not you,” Dean was quick to reiterate. “It’s-- God, I can’t believe I’m giving you an ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ speech over a theoretical situation.” He tried to meet Cas’ eye. “It’s… it’s just my damage and issues, Cas. And logically, I _know_ I don’t care what these people think and their opinions don’t matter. I just… I got caught off-guard is all. All my insecurities hit me at once. Growing up standing out in second-hand clothes that didn’t fit. Being poor and scraping by hustling and with credit card scams. Always sticking out. Not finishing school. Hell, I was uncomfortable about dressing up because I didn’t want to screw it up. I wanted to look good. Then everybody was out for the evening and there are people in gowns and with their families and couples and, y’know, they actually _paid_ to be on this cruise! Because they could afford it! We _didn’t_ because we _can’t_. And I just felt…” he struggled, tongue wetting his bottom lip, breathing too hard, not sure how to put it into words that made sense to anyone besides him. “I just felt… exposed. All of my lies and bullshit and shortcomings right there in the open and I panicked. I’m sorry. I wasn’t saying there was anything wrong with being seen with you or people thinking we were something we aren’t. I just didn’t… I just didn’t want to be seen for what I am.”  
  
Castiel continued to stare off, gaze distant and remote.  
  
Dragging his eyes away, Dean shifted and glowered at the waves put out by the engine, the night as dark as his mood.  
  
He didn’t move as Cas twisted back around, the two of them leaning against the railing and staring unseeing at the inky water.  
  
“I never really considered it,” Cas admitted, voice so soft it nearly blended with the sound of the water and engines. “About what it would be like to be with someone, but how others might perceive it. I’m sheltered and naive that way, I suppose. Your societal rules and conduct often make no sense to me. Much of it I’ve learned from being immersed in your culture. Having you and Sam as guides. I’m not much different than Jack in that way.” He shook his head.  “Much of humanities judgments are still… detached and insignificant to me. I was not raised to give them weight and value as you were, that certain perceptions were held higher than others. They just… don’t matter to me. I guess I forgot that might be an issue were I to eventually be with someone.”  
  
Dean stiffened with a blink, slowly turning his head. He kept his face neutral as he asked, “Is that something you… want?”  
  
Their eyes met, a wrinkle between Cas’ brows. “Of course, Dean. I’m human now.” He shrugged. “I wanted it before but didn’t think it would be reciprocated because, well, I was an angel. Now, that’s a non-issue. I’m still socially awkward and a bit odd, but we’d be... on level footing, I think is the phrase?” Dean didn’t correct him. Cas’ head tilted. “Did you think I _wouldn’t_ want a relationship?”  
  
He stalled by sipping his drink. “I guess… I guess I thought-- or told myself-- you were, uh… aromantic or asexual. You’d never had a relationship and you’ve never shown interest in anyone in the time I’ve known you.”  
  
“I’ve shown interest,” Cas answered, quicker and stronger than Dean expected. In the dim light, Cas cheeks clearly flushed as he looked away. “Maybe just not well enough. And I’ve had… there was April.”  
  
“That was sketchy as hell, Cas, no offense.”  
  
He hummed, brow ticking as if to concede the point. “And Meg.”  
  
Dean paled. “You didn’t sleep with her, did you?”  
  
“What? No,” he clarified, “but she was interested. Given her... insistence, I’ll admit I found myself curious.” He waved. “It never would have happened, obviously, but it did set my mind wondering. Worrying I might end up alone for eternity. How horrible that would be. Now I’m human, but… I don’t know how to have what I want. Especially when my interest went completely unnoticed. Or if it wasn’t and I was rejected but didn’t realize it.”  
  
“Cas, I’m pretty sure no one would ever reject you.” He hmmed, the corner of his mouth curling in a smile that was sad. Dean bumped him with his shoulder. “I’m sorry if I made it sound like the problem was you instead of me.”  
  
He slid Dean a sidelong glance. “You look amazing,” he said. A blush, hot and prickling, rushed Dean’s face. Cas continued, “You _are_ amazing. Don’t measure yourself in comparison to others. They’re not on your level, Dean.”  
  
Huffing and looking away, Dean tried to bite back a smile. He focused on his drink. “Geez, Cas, you know how to embarrass a guy.”  
  
“And here I thought I was paying compliments.” He tilted his chin up, eyes on the dark blanket that stretched endlessly around them. “I suppose I need to ‘up my game,’” he murmured.  
  
Dean choked on his drink, spluttering as he took a sip. He wiped at his mouth, laughing. “I love that I can hear the finger quotes even when you don’t use them.”  
  
Castiel gave him a crooked smile. “And I love when you’re happy and enjoying yourself,” he said. “Which is what this vacation is _for_.” He straightened, jerking his head toward the stairs to the next deck. “‘Happy’ looks good you. I like seeing it.”  
  
“Aw, well now you’re just flirting,” Dean teased, climbing the stairs behind him.  
  
“My skills in that area need work.”  
  
“Well, you made _me_ blush.”  
  
Cas twisted, eyes dancing with mischief, but voice warm and fond. “That _is_ a sight to see.”  
  
Dean’s steps faltered, blinking up at him. He had a moment to wonder if Cas actually _was_ flirting with him, but… no, there was no way. He was just teasing Dean back.  
  
Cas continued up the stairs, talking over his shoulder. “I’m glad you came with me. It’s nice out here.”  
  
Dean shook himself, hurrying to keep up. “How are you enjoying the cruise? I haven’t gotten to ask. You have even less context for this than I did.”  
  
They walked along the deck, past sun chairs and hot tubs. The pool was empty now that the sun had set, and it glowed ethereally with underwater lights.  
  
“I’m enjoying it,” Cas said. “It’s been a unique experience. Though, if I’m to be honest, I’ve missed you.”  
  
Dean frowned, drink to his lips before he turned his head. “Missed--? Cas, I’ve been here. How can you have missed me?”  
  
He shook his head. “Sorry, that’s not what I mean. We’ve spent time together as a group, which I love. But I also love one-on-one time with each of you-- especially you-- and this is the first time I’ve gotten time with _just_ you.”  
  
Mouth dry, Dean looked away. “...Why mostly me?”  
  
“Our relationships are all different, Dean. Each unique. But ours is a more profound bond with greater history.” He slid him a look, a hint of a smile teasing the corner of his mouth. “And you are my best friend.”  
  
Grinning dopily-- and blaming the drink in hand-- Dean knocked his shoulder into Cas’. “Yeah, alright. I’ve missed you, too. And this is nice.” He looked up, the wind cool and comfortable against his skin. “Really nice, actually. We’ll have to make more of a point to schedule things evenly, I guess. Easy enough to do.”  
  
“Sam and I are going to the gym in the morning--”  
  
“They have a _gym_?” Dean squawked, face morphing. “What is wrong with these people? _Va-ca-tion._ ”  
  
“Some people, Sam and myself included, enjoy the routine and exercise, thank you very much.”  
  
He snorted. “Have at it. Me and Jack will go get breakfast without you, then. We get to sleep in.”  
  
They followed the path in a curve until they were headed toward the bow of the boat, slowly making their way up deck-by-deck.  
  
“I wouldn’t be so sure. Jack’s a light sleeper, remember?”  
  
“Oh yeah.” Dean frowned. “And he’s like a patient, but excited puppy all the time. He’d just wait for me to wake up so we could go to breakfast.” He set his drink on a table as they passed. Castiel set his beside it. “Water for the rest of the night for me, then.” He scrubbed his face. “I can’t believe I’m getting up early on vacation. The things we do for that kid.”  
  
“He _is_ adorable.”  
  
“It’s like a superpower and he doesn’t even know it.”  
  
“Probably for the best.”  
  
“Dude, once Sam learned how to use his puppy-dog eyes on me? Kid wielded them like a weapon,” he declared, jabbing a finger at Cas when he laughed. “That is just not playing fair.”  
  
“I’ve seen them,” he agreed.  
  
“But you and me…” Dean began, heart stuttering over the words and throat dry enough making him miss his drink.  
  
“You and me,” Cas prodded.  
  
“You and Sam for the gym. Me and Jack for breakfast. You wanna... do something-- just us-- tomorrow?”  
  
Cas smiled at him as they entered a pair of automatic door to make their way through the interior of the ship.  
  
“I had considered staying onboard, actually.”  
  
“What? Why? We’ll be in _Belize_.”  
  
“Technically,” Cas agreed, “but it will be a strip of island owned by the cruise liner rather than Belize-proper. It’s pretty much just a beach. I can stay on board, enjoy the view from a sun chair-- with fewer people on board-- and food and drinks are covered, whereas on the island you would pay for them.” He shrugged. “It sounded peaceful. Cruises are nice, but it can still feel overwhelming and exhausting, running here or there for this and that. I thought it might be nice to just… be. To read or write or layout enjoying the sun.”  
  
Dean pursed his lips, eager for that, as well. “You know how to paint an appealing picture. You wanna stay onboard together? Or did you want time to yourself and we hang out later?” Cas considered him and Dean backpedaled. “I mean, Sam, Jack, and I can hang at the beach no problem. I just want to know what _you_ want.”  
  
Cas gave a breathy laugh, a smile spreading over his lips. Dean frowned.  
  
Schooling his features, amusement still in his eyes, Cas said, “I’d love to have your company. It’ll be nice. A first.”  
  
Exiting out onto the deck, they followed the arrows to the stairs leading to deck sixteen and the age-specific areas.  
  
“How is it a first?” Dean wondered as they climbed the stairs and re-entered the vessel.  
  
“Things are calm,” Cas answered. “We’re on our first vacation. It’s you and I spending time together… just to spend time together.” He looked at Dean, eyes hooded and a smile at the corner of his mouth. “I’m looking forward to it.”  
  
Throat sticking, Dean’s brain stuttered, heat flooding his face at what was-- had to be-- blatant flirting. From Cas.  
  
“You’re here!” Jack exclaimed as they stepped out into the adults-only sun deck. His face was a bright grin of eagerness. “We’re watching _Thor_!”  
  
“Ragnarok,” Sam clarified.  
  
Still blushing-- and having a mild panic attack-- Dean dragged his gaze over the area, at the large wall with scenic pictures of the places they were visiting rotating on the screen. Of the many deck chairs and tables, the various hot tubs to one side and the small pool with a waterfall. There was a bar tucked into the corner with people crowding around, key cards in hand.  
  
More importantly, though, was the way all sound from the rest of the ship seemed to cut off. He twisted, looking at the wall behind them. Water running through the walls to feed into the waterfalls and blocking out noise.  
  
“Huh. Nice.” Sam raised his brows. “It’s quiet.”  
  
“Thus the appeal.”  
  
Clapping his hands and rubbing them, he pointed to each of them. “Okay, game plan for the morning. Sam, you and Cas are going to the gym?” He nodded. “Jack, you wanna get breakfast with me?”  
  
“Yes!”  
  
“Awesome. We’ll already be at port, so afterward, I guess, you two can head off to the beach while Cas and I stay behind.”  
  
Sam’s brow furrowed, eyes playing over Dean’s features. “...you don’t want to come?”  
  
Dean could tell he was worried about what happened in the restaurant. He lowered his gaze.  
  
“I’m fine, Sam.” Forcing his features to smile, he met his gaze and jerked his head at Cas. “Food and drinks are already paid for onboard. And with the majority of people at the beach, things will be quieter. I gotta admit that appeals.”  
  
His shoulders relaxed and he relented with a nod. “You’re not wrong.” He gestured toward a section of chairs. “We already saved us seats.”  
  
“You got here fast.”  
  
“The arcade’s on this floor. We took the elevator. Drinks?”  
  
Jack pointed to where several machines were stationed in the corner, delighted. “They’re making popcorn.”  
  
Sam still looked at them in question.  
  
“Just water.”  
  
“Same.”  
  
“I’ll help you get drinks,” offered Dean, “if you two wanna grab the popcorn.”  
  
They were quiet as they waited in line to order, the two bartenders working like well-oiled machines: taking cards and orders, just as quickly fixing multiple drinks and handing them back out.  
  
The silence made Dean fidget, anticipating Sam’s inevitable need to bring up earlier, hating himself for being the way he was to begin with. It didn’t make sense he couldn’t just… tell himself what to do or how to feel. Couldn’t shake things away and carve himself into something and someone better than he was. It was petty, especially when logically he knew one thing, but everything his body told him somehow trumped that, making him feel cornered.  
  
“How was the arcade?” he blurted.  
  
Sam grinned. “You should have seen his face light up. I love getting to introduce him to new things. He's such a kid. That awe and excitement over things... I have to remind myself to have that more. To enjoy things. Even little things, you know?”  
  
He stared at the white deck beneath their shoes, hands shoved into his pockets. “Yeah. We’ve spent so much time not letting ourselves that it’s a habit at this point. We got fixated on the bad things coming at us because we kept losing all the good things we found.”  
  
“I’m glad you and Cas are taking it easy tomorrow,” he said, making Dean’s head jerk up as Sam stepped up to the bar and ordered four glasses of water. When Dean didn’t say anything, eyes narrowed and trying to read what that meant, Sam looked at him. “Enjoying the good things we’ve found,” he clarified.  
  
Heat rushed Dean’s face as the bartender placed their drinks down and Sam turned to grab two, passing them off to Dean before grabbing the others.  
  
“It’ll just be quieter, Sammy,” he mumbled, turning away before he could speak.  
  
His ridiculous legs let him fall into step by Dean in a single bound.  
  
“I know. Just, y’know. What makes _you_ happy makes _me_ happy.” He smiled. “You’re my brother. That’s how this works.”  
  
He rolled his eyes and a bit back a grin at his ridiculous, overgrown sibling. “What would make me happy is Marvel and popcorn, Sammy.”  
  
“Well, luckily, we have both.”  
  
“Brat.”  
  
“Jerk.”  
  
Jack looked at them, brow furrowed. “Why are you calling each other names?”  
  
“Said affectionately,” Castiel assured him, taking the water Dean held out and offering a bag of popcorn in return.  
  
Ruffling Jack’s hair, Dean settled into one of the chairs. “You’d understand if you had siblings.”  
  
“Can I _have_ siblings?” he puzzled, face that perplexed look he got when he didn’t understand what to do with something.  
  
“... _Technically_ , yes,” Cas answered.  
  
Dean looked at Jack. “...and, _technically_ , I think you already do.” He leaned forward to look past him at Cas. “Has he met Claire?”  
  
“Oh, dude, _yes_ ,” exclaimed Sam. Dean turned to see his bright grin. “That is something we are doing as soon as we get back. I’ll email Jody.” His grin grew wider, lighting his entire face up. “You’re about to end up with a whole bunch of sisters.”  
  
Laughing, Dean settled back in his chair as the screen flickered and the opening sequence came on the screen, the lights around them dimming.  
  
“God, I love our family.”  
  
\--  
  
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